


#1 Crush

by annabeth



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Masturbation, Secret Crush, Underage - Freeform, obsession it's not just a cologne, otayuri - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-30
Updated: 2017-08-30
Packaged: 2018-12-21 20:17:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11951844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annabeth/pseuds/annabeth
Summary: It's crazy, Yuri knows that. But hewants, all the same.





	#1 Crush

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shadesofhades](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadesofhades/gifts).



> Title from Garbage.

It's crazy. Yuri knows that Beka has wanted to be his friend for awhile. But Beka doesn't know what it's like to be Yuri: fifteen years old and his first friend is just so… _everything_. He's too cool. He's too hot. He's got that leather jacket and the bike and the undercut that looks amazing, and that golden skin and those dark, fathomless eyes that Yuri likes to drown in.

Yeah, it's crazy, but Yuri's got it so bad. He _wants_. He aches for it. He doesn't even know for exactly what. Sure, he's got some idea of what could happen—he's not sheltered—but with Beka?

No. With Otabek, Yuri has no _idea_ what he wants, not really. Sometimes he lies in bed at night, thinking of their last FaceTime conversation, picturing Beka in his mind's eye: so hot, with that defined, cut jawline. The stubble that Yuri wants to feel tickle his face.

He'll press his face into the pillow and moan with the ache of unresolved pleasure. He'll imagine _kissing_ Beka… and then his brain will short circuit. Because he _knows_ things.

Ever since Barcelona, Yuri has been reading everything he can about Beka. He knows every stat. He's got his weight and height memorized. He wants to feel all that solid muscle against his skin. To feel small against his bigger, broader body.

So he's aware that Beka had a secretive relationship when he was sixteen, with another _boy_. Yuri can't get this to stay in his mind without feeling like his thoughts are tipping sideways. He's known for awhile—since he was about thirteen—that boys were what made his blood run hot under his skin. But it had always seemed so impossible: before Viktor, and a completely unreasonable crush, Yuri didn't know any other boys who liked boys.

But now there's Beka. Yuri lives for every second he has Beka's attention. Sometimes Beka smiles a little, just for him, a crack in that gorgeous stoic manner, and Yuri will feel his whole body like it's been lit on fire.

He can't stand it. This crush is so intense, so impossible—Beka probably doesn't even like him that way!—that he feels like he's going crazy.

Yeah, he's definitely going crazy.

~&~

"Hey," Otabek says, his voice that low, sexy growl that Yuri loves so much. "How are you doing, Yura?"

Even the special diminutive of his name makes his heart race. Why does everything Beka does make him so _hot_?

"I'm pretty good," he tries to say casually, but his own voice catches on the words like a branch snagging delicate fabric. Beka's wearing a _very_ tight sleeveless white t-shirt, and it's making Yuri's pulse jump and his body get hot. He's half-hard, and he wants to masturbate, but he doesn't dare think about that too much—Beka can see his face, and his fair skin holds a blush like a white silk blouse holds a wine stain.

"It's late," Beka says. "Do you mind if I get ready for bed while we talk?" He's already combing his hair, and Yuri wants to _be that comb_ , to feel Beka's hair run through his fingers.

"N-no," he says, cursing himself for stammering. "I don't mind. Of course not." But the truth is it terrifies him. And it should: when Beka strips his t-shirt over his head, Yuri's mind blanks. All he's aware of is his shorts, suddenly way too tight and constricting.

Beka's glorious body ought to be preserved in marble or clay. His muscles are cut perfectly against taut skin, and his biceps and shoulders make Yuri afraid he's literally drooling.

"So, what's on your mind, Yura?" Beka asks, as he stretches and yawns.

_You_ , Yuri thinks. But in truth, Yuri has no idea. He can't even think anymore. How can he… he has to make Beka his. He _has_ to. This is more than just a crush. This is love. It has to be.

"I… I think I have a crush on someone," Yuri says haltingly. It's risky, to confess that to his actual crush, but, he doesn't have any other friends, and if he doesn't tell _someone_ he's going to go mad. Even crazier over these stupid emotions than he already is.

"You do?" Beka settles back against his headboard, the phone showing off a tantalizing amount of skin—right down to Beka's abs, with every defined muscle begging for Yuri's tongue to dip into the ridges. "Anyone I know?" Beka winks at him, and oh, God. Yuri's not going to survive this.

"I'd rather not say," Yuri hedges. He's not going to outright lie, but he can't _tell_ Beka. "Someone older. I don't think they'd want me."

"I don't know why not," Beka says. "You're pretty cute, Yuri, and if you can get past that cactus-like exterior, you're pretty sweet. I'd say whoever it is is lucky."

"Nah," Yuri says, and now he's definitely blushing. "It's _awful_ , Beka. I want him _all the time_."

"A boy?" Beka sounds surprised. "You didn't tell me you liked boys, Yura."

_That makes two of us_ , Yuri thinks with a painful throb of his heart. Even worse, it's echoed by a throb in his dick. He's hyper-aware of how heavy and tight he feels. How _hot_. How his balls suddenly feel like ten ton weights.

"I just, uh, figured it out," Yuri says. That's a lie, but he doesn't know how to tell the truth, and it hurts, because he doesn't want to lie to Beka.

"It'll be okay, Yura. Even if you don't have a relationship with this person, there will be other people, other opportunities. It's not as difficult as it might seem."

But, no. Yuri knows that isn't true. His desire for Beka is _so_ huge and overwhelming he can't imagine ever wanting anyone else.

"It's impossible," Yuri says. Beka's eyes are gleaming, and Yuri's face feels scorched by his blush. God, Beka's gotta know. How can he not know?

"Don't give up hope," Beka says. "You're awfully appealing, Yura."

Every time Beka compliments him, Yuri dies inside a little more. Because either Beka knows, and he's teasing, or he doesn't know, and he's just being his usual serious self, or—or he's flirting.

Yuri thinks flirting might actually be the worst outcome.

"I have to, uh, go now," Yuri says, flustered. "Have a good night, Beka. Sweet dreams."

_Of me_ , he hopes, but why? Why would Beka want a fifteen-year-old? He's so much older, more mature… just more _everything_ than Yuri.

"You too, Yura. Sleep well." When Beka hangs up, Yuri flomps backward with a gasp and grabs uncoordinatedly for his cock.

He won't. He won't sleep well because his brain is afire. His mind won't stop whirling over the need to _have_. But he can't. He doesn't have the courage to tell Beka who it is he likes, and so he's just going to keep drowning in the depth of feelings he doesn't really understand.

Yuri pumps his dick into his curled fist, over and over, until he's so blinded by physical pleasure that he feels dizzy and Beka's face and body are slightly blurred, no longer in such clarity it fucking _hurts_.

His orgasm takes him by surprise, come shooting and his hand faltering, hips stuttering. Even his orgasm almost hurts.

Yuri rolls over and pushes his face into the pillow.

He's going to die.

end.


End file.
